


Headmate (abandoned)

by rzbrrii



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Romance, Siblings, just FYI, romance isnt between siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rzbrrii/pseuds/rzbrrii
Summary: Casey and Sydney are two brothers, Or, as they are known is this world "Headmates" -- Two siblings who share a body. Headmates are extremely common and generally take turns controlling . Unfortunately, Sydney has no control over his body and cannot talk to others besides his headmates. Then they meet Emerson





	1. Chapter 1

I like to like let Sydney out when we’re sleeping, since he can’t during the day. Stretch his muscles he never uses, let him feel what it's like to inhale and exhale, let him hum in his sleep, even if he can’t move his mouth. It’s a simple easy way to make him happier, sometimes, if he’s feeling nice, he even thanks me. Quietly, softly, like he’s embarrassed to enjoy the little movement he has. Like he's ashamed to have so little. He acts like it's such a big deal. Like i wouldn't be a shit freind if i didn’t. 

Usually It went well. I wake up with the vague muffled sensation of being fully inside my own body and syd shrinks back into us to let me take control. Sometimes, as mentioned, with a quiet thank you, and i regain the full feeling of our physical limbs. Today was not one of those days. Today I woke up covered in bruises.

Sydney had fits if you leave him in control. Not a tantrum mind you, he’s not a child. But full blown physical fits. He can’t control our body you see.

I examine our chest to see it scratched up and smeared with blood. Looking for a source i find the palms of my hands have been clawed almost to the bone. Blood is caked under my fingernails. My wrists are swollen and tender as though they had been banged hard against the bedframe. As are my ankles. I pull my blankets off and find the technicolor mottling descends down my stomachs and onto my thighs. In some places, whatever pressure had been applied had broken the skin and it oozed blood onto the white sheets.   
My head is throbbing, muffled. The way i feel sydney's sensations if they are intense enough. If i can feel it at all it must be agony for him. You here the smallest of whimpers inside your head

“Syd?” You ask. There is silence for a moment. 

“I'm Sorry” the smallest of whispers makes the dull throbbing spike and sydney screams like he’s been stabbed. 

“It’s alright Syd” You sigh, you can't really be mad at him, it's not like it's really his fault. 

You get up to take care of him feel a rush of muted dizziness as you rise to you feet. You probably would have vomited had sydney been in control. You grab a cup off your night stand and walk to the bathroom, sydney squeaks with every step as though it is somehow bouncing his brain up and down. It is bright white in the bathroom and sydney moans as the fluorescent glow burns his eyes and begs me to shut them. I don’t but i do turn off the lights so our only visibility is a small stream from the window. I fill up the glass and sydney hisses at the noise. I grab some painkillers from the medicine cabinet. I gulp them then chug the rest of the glass. Hydration is important. 

I can feel sydney's brain shaking, so hard it makes mine shake too. I trudge to the kitchen for coffee, Caffeine helps. As i stand waiting for it to brew sydney begs me to please sit down. I jump up to the counter and he screams at the sudden jostling. I wince and apologise. The coffee is ready. I cream and sugar it not the way i like but the way Syd does. I drink it slowly, inhaling the steam and feeling the warmth on my hands. I’m never sure how much sydney can actually feel, but i try and let him appreciate the calming warmth anyway. Our coffee is soon finish, 

I don’t eat anything less it make him nauseous and go to the bedroom to get dressed. 

“Can we please lie down”

“I'm sorry Syd” 

“But standing hurts”

“We can’t miss school today”

“Please”

“No”

“Please” He’s practically sobbing

I grimace

“I'm so sorry syd”

I walk through the front door and lock it, i might have yelled goodbye to mom but yelling seemed inconsiderate so i didn't. I lock it and hop in the car. On the cool november morning that it was, the car was a warm safehaven from the frost across our front lawn and all around us. I pull the ice-scraper out of my trunk and clear off my windshield. Sydney is shivering audibly. I get in the car as quickly possible

Driving down the street i can hear Sydney humming woozily and feel the way his heart beats too fast. He groans a few times absentmindedly before falling asleep. I drive in silence. Reaching the school, I pull into the student section of the parking lot. My swearing as i skid slightly on ice wakes sydney up with a groan. 

“Oh good you're awake just in time” I say and get another groan in response. 

I chuckle as he groggily gets his bearings and forms a response. 

“Do i have to stay up for classes today? Or can i sleep?” his voice is fuzzy and rough, but not as timid and desperate as before when he begged to lie down: a good sign.   
“Well i need you for math or else we’re gonna fail that test but after that you're good” He hums an acceptance, still sleepy. 

We reach the portable of our calculus class a few minutes before the bell rings and have time to pull out and organize our papers. I scribble the homework due tomorrow in our planner and spread out our review notes on the desk, rereading them in case sydney falls back asleep. Math work is mostly sydneys job generally. I just don’t have the mind for it, so i rely on him pretty heavily. He relies on my for essays so it evens out. 

Before i feel any time has passed the teacher is telling us all to put our notes away and is passing back packets of graphs and equations. I understand none of it, but syd tells me what to write. It takes us half the period, we are the first to finish. 

When i walk to the teacher's desk and place the packet in the bin, she raises an eyebrow at us 

“You're fast today” she states dryly. 

Syd scoffs, quickly recovering from this morning and regaining his personality of pompous assholery.  
“It was easy cause you don’t know shit about math” he says and i'm glad she can’t hear him. 

“Shut up you dick” I respond to him because although he is still clearly tired he is out of you-must-be-nice-to-me territory 

“Thank you” I respond to the teacher. She only nods in response and we sit back down at our desk. We work on today's homework for the rest of class and have it done by the end. The bell rings and we rush out of the stuffy classroom. 

The air outside is colder than expected and i quickly switch from rushing outside to rushing inside of our english classroom. I knock the snow dust off of my feet and by the time i reach my chair sydney is falling asleep again. 

“Up fuckface”

“Yeah, sorry, yeah, yeah” he mutters. Whatever, Its english anyway so i don't really need him. There is an essay prompt scratched across the board in expo marker. I take out our   
composition book and begin to write, a title first: “What Makes A Literary Work Great” 

Sydney says very little as i write my thesis and jot outline notes on the opposite page other than to comment on the amount of bullshit i am “Spewing onto the page in the form of bad handwriting.” I give a dismissive “mmhmm ” but otherwise ignore him and focus on the distinct-non-bullshit i am currently composing. 

The rest of the days goes by blurredly. Is is mostly work pages and snide comments from syds. Describing to people how we interact to people always get weird looks. Or worse: concerned ones. We’re not affectionate like most headmates. We bicker and quarrel. And sometimes straight-up fight. Not that means anything. I have actually had doctors tell me that sydney doesn't talk because i’m too mean to him. What dickwads. People don’t seems to understand when I (or our parents) say that he can’t. It's not that he doesn't want to. 

Soon enough we are driving home in silence and the day is done. Syd is saying nothing and quietly humming along to the radio. 

“ Hey syd?” I break the silence. 

“Yeah?” 

“You feeling better?”

“Yeah, i guess, yeah” he responds noncommittally. 

“Hmm alright” i give him an equally vacant answer, but i think he could feel the relief in my tone. I don’t like sydney hurting. 

When we pull into the driveway at home and turn of the radio, sydney sighs deeply 

“We don’t have to do anything do we?”

“No, i don't think so at least” 

I double check our planner walking through the door and i am correct, all of our homework had been done at school. I climb the stairs to our bedroom and flop heavily on the bed,   
shrugging our backpack off our shoulders and reach immediately for our laptop.

We end up watching youtube for an hour or so before the bruises along my torso start aching and i am reminded of my injuries. I walk into the bathroom across the hall and lock the door as I shed our clothes before the mirror. The once-purple mottling has changed to greenish-yellow like the color of snot. The busted skin i never cleaned is now   
congealed with globs of sticky-red. 

I pull so antibiotic out of the shelves and pour a bit onto a piece of toilet paper. We both hiss as i press it against the largest wound. Sydney swears profusely like the the over dramatic fuck he is. I muse over our situation and come to a realization.

“Did it hurt to be awake for this?” I ask with concern. Syd gives a slight chuckle out of awkwardness

“Well, yeah no shit”

“You know you can wake me up right?”

“No”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you need sleep” 

“No, you need to not hurt yourself” I have finished with the other wounds and I throw the gooey red napkin in the trash “Gross” 

“Casey?”

“Yeah”

“Thank you” 

I smile slightly “Syd?” 

“Yeah”

“I love you”

“Love you too” 

I smile more.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up the next morning is somehow more painful then it was to wake up wounded the day before. I guess the injuries had “set in”. Or something. I don't know but it hurt. I rolled myself onto my back, wincing as the scabs catch on the sheets, and push myself into a sitting position, making my sore, bruised stomach muscles ache angrily.

This morning there is not nearly such a rush and there is not a sick sydney so i have time to do a quick check-up. I walk to the bathroom and shed my shirt, the person in the mirror looks disgusting. They (I) am entirely sickly green where i had been hit and the splits in my skin were now oozing puss. I wipe them down with antibiotic again and cover them with bandaids, going through a whole pack. 

Syd wakes up as i play doctor on us

“ Wow, you look gross” he states matter-of-factly 

“We look gross, asshole” I snap back. I could point out that it's his fault that we look like this, but i never would. Besides, It not really his fault, per say. 

Syd snickers “yeah, but you’re the one that has to deal with it, half that people you talk to at school don't even know my name” 

He’s so matter a fact about it but it makes me grimace, he acts like i'm not there every time he cries over having no friends. Every time he curls up into a sniveling pathetic mess because no one will just talk to him. It’s more heart wrenching than i’d ever say to his face. 

“ My actual friends, know your name” i respond. (I have maybe 3-ish)

“Doesn’t mean they talk to me” 

Yeah ok syd, pretend you don’t cry about that ever. 

I shrug in reluctant agreement. Syd falls silent and stops teasing as i finish in the bathroom and walk to our dresser. I grab out some clean underwear and a shirt, throw them on, and pull up a pair of dirty jeans from the floor. They have a small stain but it's fine. I grab a hoodie as i walk out to our car and we are on our way. 

Since sydney’s brain is not currently throbbing i turn on music, the radio spits out static and trashy pop until i find a channel i like. We sing along like idiots: Sydney very badly, me relatively well (if i do say so myself) 

I turn off the radio once we pull into the school driveway, so that we are not heard. Sydney continues to sing the rest in my head but i ignore him as i walk into our first period. 

I plop down into our desk just before the bell rings and the teacher starts to speak. She drones on about whatever-the-fuck for half the class and i zone out, leaving syd to the attention-paying. 

After about thirty minutes, when i am basically asleep, the door opens and the teacher pauses. There is a boy standing at the door, our age, with a scarf and gelled up hair. I watch him, with the rest of the class as he explains to the teacher

“Hello… um yes.. I am a new student… I'm in your class now”

The teacher raises an eyebrow looking at her attendance sheet

“Emerson Andrews?”

“ Yes, miss….?”

“Stevens.” she fills in. “Well Emerson, you’re late”

He stammers “I was getting my schedule”

“Sit down then” 

“Yes Miss Stevens”

He sits down at the only empty desk; next to us and gives a small wave. I give him a thumbs up and continue to zone. Sydney stares. 

“Dude pay attention” I tell him

“You’re not”

“I never do! This class is your job”

“Well maybe you should”

“Obviously I should but i haven't all year and i have no idea what she’s talking about”

“Fine but watch him” 

“What?? Why?”

Sydney clams up real quick at that question and suddenly i understand. I have to work not to laugh at loud. 

“Yeah ok dude, you need to reevaluate your taste but sure i'll watch him for you” 

“Shut up i didn’t say i liked him”

“You might not have said it but..”

“Shut it” he spits and i end up spending the rest of class trying to glance at this new kid as subtly as possible. I notice absolutely nothing interesting.


End file.
